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thecapitol2014-07-31 12:01 pm
stotte) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-31 12:01 pm
even a natural born fighter can find cause to break sometimes
Who| astrid and anyone
What| not getting the best first impressions on her first day
Where| training center (district 6 suites, halls/elevators, training room)
When| 7/31
Warnings/Notes| mentions of death
Astrid had grown up knowing nothing but how to fight. She came from a world where warring against dragons was once all that she had known, where there was only ever enough time to think of survival and whether she could be up enough of a defense to live for another day. But that had long since been over. It was years since the Vikings had made peace with the dragons, learning to live amongst them, obtaining the privilege to go about each day with harmony and the opportunity to just laugh without the constant fear of dying.
She never imagined being thrown back into a world like that, not in this way anyhow. Filled with strange foreign gadgets and nothing at all familiar from her home, all she's told is that she would be fighting for her survival--a tribute, they called her, yet all she can wonder if she had somehow been a sacrifice to the gods. Perhaps, that's what this was, a test of some kind. But even so, nothing explain this strange place she had been brought to. Where was Berk? Where were her friends? Where was Hiccup?
a ↠ district 6 suites
Insulation might be one of the first things she really takes notice of, oddly enough. But when you experience nine months of harsh winters in your home, it wouldn't take long to catch on to the incredible new sense of warmth that overtakes you. Not that the lack of cold truly made her feel better or safer in this situation anyway.
The entire floor was incredibly large, noting the almost endless amount of rooms that she'd learned belong to others much like herself. She finds herself in the common room, carefully touching the incredibly soft, bench-like furniture (Were those safe to sit on? Why were they so soft?) before noticing the moving paintings on the wall.
Except they weren't paintings at all, recalling someone mentioning televisions and that they would display everything she needed to know--about the "games", the Capitol, the tributes. She studies the screen with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, noting how the pictures seem to "speak" as well. But she hardly pays mind to the spoken words, not when suddenly the most disturbing deaths are displayed for her to see, horrifying images that even someone such as herself, so well acquainted with war, grows sick in the stomach just to watch.
The sequences switch through fast, but she has no doubt when she sees a well-known blond twin on the screen and subconsciously rejoices for a quick second at the sight of a familiar face before suddenly there's a bite at the neck and all she sees is Ruffnut being eaten alive.
A struggling gasp is all she can manage, the screen already switching to yet another gruesome death as if the one of her friend no longer mattered, just another number in the toll of all these people losing their lives so instantly lacking reason. If it weren't for an empty stomach, she'd have lost all its contents in that moment, not that it would do anything to help with taking in the next sight.
Hiccup.
It was only on the screen for mere seconds, but she knows that ruffled mess of hair and peg leg anywhere. And in a quick flash that she's convinced is an illusion, she watches as the love of her life gets stabbed in the chest, not even having put up a fight, falling hopelessly into death.
b ↠ halls / elevators
It wasn't exactly easy to be in the best of moods after seeing hundreds get murdered right before your eyes, including a close friend and your lover. But she needed to figure this place, figure out why she was here and what she needed to do to get out as soon as possible.
But this place was so large, odd contraptions scattered about, strange moving boxed rooms that took her up and down the height of the building--everything was too otherworldly, things she never could possibly understand. So in addition to the anger already dwelling up inside, frustration becomes a familiar friend as she wanders hopelessly through the different floors of the building, a lost Viking with no idea how to get out.
c ↠ training room
Finally, something familiar to her. Even if she's disgusted about this new environment, the sight of the double sided axe that she quickly takes in her hands brings an extreme comfort to her. Suddenly, she's much more protected. Even if it was just in this room, holding it brought forth a new sense of courage that she had yet to experience since she came upon this new world.
She swings around the axe with ease, and for a few moments, she forgets everything she's already seen that day, everything she's learned and her mind relaxes as her body becomes accustomed again to what she had always known well how to do: to fight.
What| not getting the best first impressions on her first day
Where| training center (district 6 suites, halls/elevators, training room)
When| 7/31
Warnings/Notes| mentions of death
Astrid had grown up knowing nothing but how to fight. She came from a world where warring against dragons was once all that she had known, where there was only ever enough time to think of survival and whether she could be up enough of a defense to live for another day. But that had long since been over. It was years since the Vikings had made peace with the dragons, learning to live amongst them, obtaining the privilege to go about each day with harmony and the opportunity to just laugh without the constant fear of dying.
She never imagined being thrown back into a world like that, not in this way anyhow. Filled with strange foreign gadgets and nothing at all familiar from her home, all she's told is that she would be fighting for her survival--a tribute, they called her, yet all she can wonder if she had somehow been a sacrifice to the gods. Perhaps, that's what this was, a test of some kind. But even so, nothing explain this strange place she had been brought to. Where was Berk? Where were her friends? Where was Hiccup?
a ↠ district 6 suites
Insulation might be one of the first things she really takes notice of, oddly enough. But when you experience nine months of harsh winters in your home, it wouldn't take long to catch on to the incredible new sense of warmth that overtakes you. Not that the lack of cold truly made her feel better or safer in this situation anyway.
The entire floor was incredibly large, noting the almost endless amount of rooms that she'd learned belong to others much like herself. She finds herself in the common room, carefully touching the incredibly soft, bench-like furniture (Were those safe to sit on? Why were they so soft?) before noticing the moving paintings on the wall.
Except they weren't paintings at all, recalling someone mentioning televisions and that they would display everything she needed to know--about the "games", the Capitol, the tributes. She studies the screen with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, noting how the pictures seem to "speak" as well. But she hardly pays mind to the spoken words, not when suddenly the most disturbing deaths are displayed for her to see, horrifying images that even someone such as herself, so well acquainted with war, grows sick in the stomach just to watch.
The sequences switch through fast, but she has no doubt when she sees a well-known blond twin on the screen and subconsciously rejoices for a quick second at the sight of a familiar face before suddenly there's a bite at the neck and all she sees is Ruffnut being eaten alive.
A struggling gasp is all she can manage, the screen already switching to yet another gruesome death as if the one of her friend no longer mattered, just another number in the toll of all these people losing their lives so instantly lacking reason. If it weren't for an empty stomach, she'd have lost all its contents in that moment, not that it would do anything to help with taking in the next sight.
Hiccup.
It was only on the screen for mere seconds, but she knows that ruffled mess of hair and peg leg anywhere. And in a quick flash that she's convinced is an illusion, she watches as the love of her life gets stabbed in the chest, not even having put up a fight, falling hopelessly into death.
b ↠ halls / elevators
It wasn't exactly easy to be in the best of moods after seeing hundreds get murdered right before your eyes, including a close friend and your lover. But she needed to figure this place, figure out why she was here and what she needed to do to get out as soon as possible.
But this place was so large, odd contraptions scattered about, strange moving boxed rooms that took her up and down the height of the building--everything was too otherworldly, things she never could possibly understand. So in addition to the anger already dwelling up inside, frustration becomes a familiar friend as she wanders hopelessly through the different floors of the building, a lost Viking with no idea how to get out.
c ↠ training room
Finally, something familiar to her. Even if she's disgusted about this new environment, the sight of the double sided axe that she quickly takes in her hands brings an extreme comfort to her. Suddenly, she's much more protected. Even if it was just in this room, holding it brought forth a new sense of courage that she had yet to experience since she came upon this new world.
She swings around the axe with ease, and for a few moments, she forgets everything she's already seen that day, everything she's learned and her mind relaxes as her body becomes accustomed again to what she had always known well how to do: to fight.
no subject
"I don't know, I find that our adoring fans here can be pretty awfully loving." She rolls her eyes. "Did your Stylists fawn over you yet?"
no subject
She laughs a bit nervously, thinking of earlier this morning. "You mean the colorful ones whose torture methods involve this odd, hot wax that they rip straight off of your body? I honestly believed they were trying to murder me. Especially when they came out with that small claw tool that pinches at your eyebrows."
no subject
"I'm Venus Dee Milo. District Five."
no subject
But the grin eases her up, getting her to bring out a few chuckles. "Astrid Hofferson. District Six. Though I'm not even really sure what the whole district thing means anyway."
no subject
"It means the people that you champion." Venus reaches up and takes her necklace, holding the crude pendant of bead and wire out. "We're fighting to take their place - it used to be their children murdering each other out there. A little girl gave me this one to thank me."
Venus doesn't believe it's a necessary evil, not anymore, but she's good at selling an idea when she wants to. She could shill for the Capitol if duty called for it.
no subject
Astrid pauses upon seeing the gift. She's heard about how children used to be the ones fighting in the arena, but it's only ever been described as a passing comment, not as the the reason for fighting.
"So we're fighting for them, huh?" As a girl who's been trained to fight since she was young, she didn't exactly wish upon it on other children to have to face battle and war that early in life, for many reasons.
no subject
She looks uncertain for a moment as the gulf between her understanding, her coping mechanism for the situation, and that of others becomes obvious in her head. "Well, I'm fighting for them. I'm not sure everyone else here would frame it that way."
no subject
Though she'd probably say it was for Hiccup and Ruffnut. To fight through it and maybe find a way to get them all home. But the more she talked to others, the less possible that seemed.
"It's ... still a little bit difficult to process this whole thing in less than 24 hours. It still feels a bit like a weird dream."
no subject
no subject
She was once a fighter who's tried to forget all reason in order to fight bravely and without hesitation. Somehow she's grown to be less cold hearted with time than what she used to be.
"Even if it's a harsh place, I wouldn't want to lose myself either."
no subject
"Anyway. My break's up. It's been nice meeting you."
no subject
"It's ... nice to meet you too," she says quietly, a bit unsure of what to take from the results of this conversation.
All she can wonder now is what has this place done to everyone?